A Christian Examination of Horror, 2019 Edition

When it comes to different genres of film, everybody has their likes and dislikes, just as they do with music they listen to, shows they watch or stream, or the kinds of foods they eat. That being said, not everybody likes today's comedy--most of it, at least. And not everybody is waiting in line for the next Nicholas Sparks novel. And not everybody thinks Marvel movies qualify as "cinema". (Just ask esteemed filmmakers Martin Scorsese and Francis Ford Coppola.)

It's just that some genres or the like are more challenging to talk about than others.

Take horror, for example. Often associated with blood, gore, monsters and/or occult-like images, this particular genre (which has been around as long as fantasy, comedy, and drama) has been a difficult topic among discerning or sensitive viewers, critics, and readers. For one thing, one of its criticisms has been a lack of redemptive qualities in its stories and/or characters, and rather on "survival of the fittest" notions, such as when said characters are trying to outsmart either the razor-sharp nightmares of a sweater-/fedora-wearing boogeyman, or the grisly body counts of a hockey-masked, machete-wielding killer, or the twisted puzzle games of a psychotic maniac on a bicycle.

A couple years ago, I wrote as thorough of a piece as I could, observing the horror genre (with emphasis on some or all of the following: scares, shocks, disgust, terror, revolt), and its many sub-categories. Though it's obviously not for everybody, one intriguing thing I've found since then is how horror can be best used as a medium or form for using stories as reflections of real-life horrors and traumas--some too difficult or frightening to face--and not just monsters and scary places, just as comic books and animation can use various genres and stories, and not just be centered on heroes in capes and spandex and on silly slapstick and sound effects, respectfully.

Either way, it seems horror (as an art form and means of storytelling) has been churning out a few high-quality and (pardon the expression) engrossing and provocative films in recent years, some socially- or intellectually-conscious for better or worse, from such diverse filmmakers as Ari Aster, Jennifer Kent, John Krasinski, Andy Muschietti, and Jordan Peele, and James Wan.

With that in mind, here are examples (in bold) of thirteen different subgenres of horror films from 2019, as well as a few celebrating some anniversaries this year, each reflecting specific themes or ideas, or with the specific purpose of shock value. (Spoiler alert: None of them involves anybody from Camp Crystal Lake.) Brace yourself.

ACTION: Blade series (1998, 2002, 2004)
Although Marvel's first foray into live-action filmmaking was technically 1986's Howard the Duck (which would qualify as "horrific" on a whole different level), many argue that this feature-film debut of the iconic half-man/half-vampire (a charismatic and committed Wesley Snipes) who battles the undead predated the superhero movie crazy of the new millenium in style, not to mention gallons of blood and hundreds of vampire teeth. The 2002 sequel, helmed by Guillermo del Toro (two years before he first brought Hellboy to the big screen) is considered the best in the series. It's been fifteen years since the release of the poorly-received third film, Blade Trinity, with the announcement at this year's San Diego Comic-Con that the character will be joining the Marvel Cinematic Universe sometime in the next couple of years, with Mahershala Ali taking the mantel this time.

BODY: It: Chapter Two (2019)
Stephen King's bestselling novel actually incorporates many elements of horror, including drama, comedy, psychological, and in the case of its titular shapeshifting "monster," body.
The second film (following the 2017 hit) finds the Losers Club reuniting 27 years later to take down the evil entity known as Pennywise (a nightmarish-looking Bill Skarsgard), once and for all. Seeing the characters as adults (particularly James McAvoy as Bill, Jessica Chastain as Beverly, and Bill Hader as Richie, with flashbacks to their kid counterparts) is compelling, while the scare factor remains as frightening, if not as strong. Plus, as terrifying and problematic as the first film was, it did balance pathos and genuine scares quite well. Some unnecessary deaths of children in this latest film are gratuitous and unnecessary, to say the least.

COMEDY: Zombieland (2009)
This hysterical yet gory comedy follows a group of survivors (Woody Harrelson, Jesse Eisenberg, Emma Stone, and Abigail Breslin) who play by specific rules for how to survive a zombie apocalypse, or search for the last box of Hostess twinkies or the world's greatest theme park. Such a concept has never been quirkier, funnier, or more clever, if at times profane and graphic. The camaraderie among the main leads (who pretty much make up the entire cast, along with a surprise, stroke-of-genius cameo) forms the centerpiece of director Ruben Fleischer's film, which celebrates its ten-year anniversary, in part, with the release of the long-awaited sequel, Zombieland: Double Tap.

DRAMA: The Babadook (2014)
Writer-director Jennifer Kent's spooky and psychological drama centers on a mother and child (Essie Davis and Noah Wiseman) grieving the loss of her husband and his father, while trying to overcome her son's emotional behavior and discovering an old storybook with a mysterious and menacing character that seems to be coming to life. An emotional roller coaster that excels from genuine scares and terror, and spirals into a disturbing and frightening home invasion thriller. The Exorcist director William Friedkin declared (the year of the film's release), "I've never seen a more terrifying film."

GOTHIC: Sleepy Hallow (1999)
Tim Burton's dark and insanely creepy adaptation of Washington Irving's novel about police constable Ichabod Crane's investigation of the Headless Horseman's presence in a small American village in the late 1700s certainly has, no doubt, impeccable and lavish period production design, not to mention some committed performances from Johnny Depp and Christina Ricci. But there's an extremely thorough, nightmarish, and eschew sense that the filmmakers were thinking of many different creative ways to cut character's heads off, and to maximize the blood and gore factor. Burton's knack for the macabre has been a key factor in a majority of his other films, some of which represent other subgenres of horror. Take his 2007 adaptation of Stephen Sondheim's acclaimed dark MUSICAL, Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, about a vengeful barber and meat pies. (That's right.) And then there are his animated musical features, such as 2005's Victorian-era Corpse Bride and 1993's idiosyncratic The Nightmare Before Christmas. Which brings me to my next example . . .

HOLIDAY: Gremlins (1984)
Watchmojo.com has a top ten list of the greatest "alternate" Christmas movies. And although it's arguably too soon to even talk about the holiday season before Halloween, this Spielberg-produced blockbuster about a mysterious creature that morphs into scary green critters is an exception to the rule (so to speak). Written by Chris Columbus (six years before he helmed Home Alone), Gremlins broke a lot of new ground in the 1980s, specifically in the formation of the MPAA PG-13-rating, after several children and parents were traumatized and appalled by the film's scary critters and violence. The movie does have its moments (how could one not love the titular "mogwai" Gizmo?), with originality, mischief, and clever humor and satire to spare. (Rotten Tomatoes refers to the film as "a statement on consumer culture [and] simply a special effects-heavy popcorn flick.") But it's bothering that such a concept uses Christmas as its primary setting. How's that for kid trauma?

NATURAL: Crawl (2019)
This Sam Raimi-produced creature feature, about a father and daughter (Kaya Scodelario and Barry Pepper) fighting against a group of killer alligators during a Category 5 hurricane in Florida (talk about a home invasion), proves exceptionally well-made and edge-of-your-seat, in spite of its seemingly campy factor. And while it does have cliche dialogue and drama at times, its setup and suspense is anything but. It goes to show how genuine suspense and terror is done, rather than what's done. The final film is quite bloody and bone-crunching, though.

PSYCHOLOGICAL: Us (2019)
Writer-director Jordan Peele's esoteric and chilling thriller of a family, on vacation at a lake house, who are terrorized by a family of red-jumpsuited, scissor-wielding doppelgangers (you will never think of Lupita N'Yongo the same way again), is another brilliantly-written and daring film from a brilliant and original filmmaker. While his previous film Get Out (2017) was a social commentary on race relations and dark realities in contemporary America, Us transcends that by focusing on, perhaps, the dark side of human nature and psychology (hence, the Hands Across America subplot). Some may see the overall message as an eye-opener to humanity's cynicism and ignorance (courtesy an implied governmental experiment gone wrong), or maybe as just a fleeting and nihilistic one. Either way, the result is effectively scary, ambiguous and provocative.

SCI-FI: Alien (1979)
"In space, no one can hear you scream." That iconic movie tagline is the perfect encapsulation of director Ridley Scott's equally iconic and terrifying sci-fi classic. In fact, Scott succeeded George Lucas in the late-Seventies with his own epic and grand space adventure, but with an emphasis on adult psychology and dread. The story follows a seven-member crew (featuring a breakout Sigourney Weaver as Ellen Ripley) who pick up a distress signal while journeying homeward, and soon encounter a hostile alien lifeform never seen before or since. The film's massive scope against its small cast (complete with jarring hand-held cinematography, and its brilliantly written, paced, and unpredictable script) create a sense of claustrophobia, paranoia, and heart-pounding suspense that none of the other subsequent films in this franchise have reached, nor an experience that many sensitive viewers will want to take.

SLASHER: Wes Craven's New Nightmare (1994)
Wes Craven's fantasy-horror frightfest, A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984), introduced audiences to Freddy Kruger, a razor-clawed killer who stalks and murders teenagers in their dreams. It was the film that set then-B-rated studio New Line Cinema on the map, and inevitably led to a string of less-than-successful sequels. Then, out of nowhere Craven returned to the series ten years later with this meta-driven thriller, set during the 10th anniversary of the 1984 original, featuring the original actors (an engrossing Heather Langenkamp and Robert Englund, and even a mysterious writer-director Craven) as themselves (plus the "reel" Freddy Kruger, the most sinister and horrifying he's ever been) during the making of the new film. Two years before he changed horror again with Scream, Craven experimented with blurring the lines between fantasy and reality in this bloody, unpredictable, and truly scary "nightmare."

SPLATTER: Ready Or Not (2019)
A young woman named Grace marries into a filthy-rich, board-game-selling family (perhaps undiscerningly), and is forced to play what seems like a silly children's game, only to find a demented, occultish, and literal life-or-death family ritual at the center. To its credit, Ready or Not does have three-dimensional characters and crazy, quirky banter, far exceeding its initially ridiculous premise (Adam Brody, Andie McDowell, and breakout star Samara Weaving steal the screen). Like Get Out, its main protagonist is an outsider "welcomed" into an upper class family, in spite of class and social differences, and eventually learns a shocking dark secret --and we root for her to get the best of the antagonists, who have apparently made deals with the devil long ago. That being said, the film wears its dark, twisted, and damaging mix of violence and macabre on its sleeve--or in this case, a bloodied wedding dress--even when children are allowed to witness such atrocities. Sad. And when Blade-like explosions happen, one can officially say how messed up this movie is.

SUPERNATURAL: Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark (2019)
Based on the 1980s children's anthology book series by Alvin Schwartz, and adapted to the screen by producer Guillermo del Toro and director Andre Ovredal, this cohesive feature follows a group of teenagers who find a haunted house and an ancient book where its stories of scarecrows, corpses with missing toes, and spiders crawling out of "red spots," come to life. Its 1968 setting, against the early years of Vietnam and Richard Nixon's re-election, while recalling the baby boomer nostalgia of walkie talkies, monster movies, and childhood adolescence is thoroughly engrossing (though, not always in the most tasteful ways) and (perhaps more than its title suggests) spooky.

RETROSPECT: Back to the Future With "The Terminator"

A murderous cyborg from the future is sent back in time to kill the mother of a future resistance leader, while a soldier from that time is sent back to protect her. That's the basic premise of James Cameron's original, thrilling sci-fi classic (or "tech-noir," as he prefers) The Terminator, which celebrates its 35th anniversary this year.

Set in Los Angeles in 1984 (present day), and in a futuristic and dystopic 2029 (which is now ten years away), the film is very dated and cheesy by today's standards (with its electronic score and special effects by the late great Stan Winston). Even so, its titular T-800 endoskeleton villain, who apparently cannot be stopped, remains just as merciless, pitiless, fearless, emotionless, and iconic as ever. (The role practically made Arnold Schwarzenegger a household name, as did many other action films of the 1980s.)

Its chase sequences (done with guerrilla-style camerawork) remain just as dynamic a la a horror-thriller, with relentless action, chills, thrills, and a sharp script, providing enough exposition through dialogue on themes of the dark side of technology and fears of the future. (According to IMDb, one of Cameron's cinematic influences was 1981's Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior.)

Michael Beihn and Linda Hamilton in The Terminator

And its central relationship between traumatized future soldier Kyle Reese (Michael Beihn's performance is arguably the best in this film) and present-day Sarah Connor (Linda Hamilton), a young woman suddenly pulled into an unexpected situation and questioning her own future in the process.

Yet, as well-known and iconic as this movie (and its franchise) may be to both adults and kids ("I'll be back" may be the most famous movie line in history), the movie(s) itself/themselves are far from child-friendly. The first half of the 1984 original will seem nihilistic to some viewers. And consider the film's level of violence, sometimes merciless and graphic, as well as occasional profanities and brief scenes of nudity.

"No fate but what we make."

The 1991 sequel, Terminator 2: Judgment Day (or, T2), is the film in this series that is most remembered, the one that has arguably stood the test of time the most, and the one that cemented its status as an iconic and groundbreaking franchise. T2 tops the first movie in so many ways, and not just by its increased budget and knockout action sequences. It genuinely pushes the characters forward (especially Sarah Connor, which gave a beefed-up and developed Hamilton a role to really sink her teeth into), showing complexities and changes in technology (Arnold's "reprogrammed" T-800), shifting what was created for evil and destruction into something good, while maintaining the central themes of preventing or changing the future.

Linda Hamilton in Terminator 2: Judgment Day

Hamilton and Arnold (especially on a motorcycle, clocking a shotgun one-handed) practically own the movie, as does the subversive T-1000 liquid metal assassin (Robert Patrick), brought to life by revolutionary visual effects and Stan Winston's groundbreaking practical studio. According to IMDb, the premise of sending these two Terminators back in time was Cameron's initial idea for the first film. His ideas, however, proved "too ambitious" at the time. But when he made The Abyss in 1989, the computer-generated water creature sequence proved so successful that Cameron returned to his initial concept and incorporated it into this film.

If the film has a weakness, it may be in how it portrays John Connor (Edward Furlong) as a rebellious teenage boy. Plus, the film's opening credits sequence (with everything on fire) and sequences involving a nightmarish nuclear explosion (with flesh-burning results), an intense assassination attempt, and graphic robot imagery are a reminder of how non-child-friendly these films are.

Three sequels followed in the next three decades, none of which retained the same excitement or originality of the first two films. 2003's Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines at least had Arnold, and special effects artist Stan Winston (who passed away five years later) was still at the top of his game. 2008's Terminator Salvation, despite a reportedly-heated Christian Bale on set, had a compellingly gritty look, nonetheless, and newcomer Sam Worthington (one year before he was in Cameron's Avatar) made an impressive character. 2015's Terminator Genysis messed with the space-time continuum of the series and became convoluted.

They'll be back.

"You changed the future, but you didn't change our fate."

And now, Cameron has returned to the franchise with a sixth installment, next weekend's Terminator: Dark Fate, helmed by Deadpool director Tim Miller, and reportedly a direct sequel to the 1991 film (just as last year's Halloween followed the 1978 horror classic and completely ignored the other films that followed since). Most exciting is the return of Hamilton as a seasoned Sarah Connor, who will fight alongside an enhanced soldier (Blade Runner 2049's Mackenzie Davis) to protect a young woman from a new, more deadly, Terminator. One can also expect an appearance from a certain, seasoned T-800.

He said he'd be back, didn't he?

RETROSPECT: "Blade Runner" or, Those Moments in Time

There are certain years that are forever immortalized or synonymous with specific movies, particularly science-fiction. Back to the Future, for instance, has a few: 1985 (present day), 1955 (past), and 2015 (future). Then there's 2001: A Space Odyssey, Stanley Kubrick's quintessential 1968 space adventure. 

Next month and year marks when we would have had a futuristic Los Angeles, as seen in director Ridley Scott's bleak and intriguing "tech-noir" thriller, Blade Runner, from 1982. Based on Philip K. Dick's dystopic novel, "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?", from a screenplay by Hampton Fancher and David Peoples, the film is a prime example of this particular subgenre, mixing 1980s-based sci-fi with a gritty style of 1940s detective noir. This vision of the future (as in the film) consists of steam, rain, billboard- and blimp-sized ads, flying cars, and neon lights. (Two years later, writer-director James Cameron would follow a somewhat-similar suit with The Terminator, which features only a few scenes set in a dystopic future.) 

Screen legend Harrison Ford plays Rick Deckard, a retired cop (and futuristic Bogart of sorts) called back in to his former job, as a "blade runner," to hunt down and kill convicted androids known as Replicants (chief among them the compelling and, at times, frightening Roy Batty, played by the late Rutger Hauer), and which may or may not include the mysterious, bright-pupiled Rachel (played by Sean Young). Replicants look and act like human beings in every way, except for emotions (and with limited lifespans). "Replicants are like any other machine," Deckard tells us, "They're either a benefit or a hazard. If they're a benefit, it's not my problem."

Many viewers (myself included) agree that these are characters--on a quest to find their "creator" (in this case, the mysterious Dr. Elden Tyrell, of the Tyrell Corporation) and seek eternal life against impending death--illustrate the notion of "man playing God," and what it is to be human, what is human and what is not, and what is "perfect" and what is not. Ditto the plots emotional-response tests, mentions of "Off-World colonies," and roles of memories (or "implants"). The electronic score by Vangelis (1981's Chariots of Fire) captures these emotions, and this world, brilliantly, as do the amazing special photographic effects supervised by Douglas Trumbell (1968's 2001: A Space Odyssey).

Rutger Hauer

Released the same year as Steven Spielberg's critical and commercial blockbuster E.T. and John Carpenter's body-horror remake The Thing, Blade Runner (like the latter) was not well-received upon its initial theatrical run. Ford and Scott, for one, didn't like the studio-added element of Ford's voice-over narration and a forced "happy ending."

However, in subsequent years (like Carpenter's film), especially with the release of a 1992 "director's cut" and a 2007 "final cut" (both of which removed the narration and initial ending), the film has gained massive followings and discussions, including the decades-long debate (and possible suggestion) that Deckard himself may or may not be a Replicant. Edward Guthmann of the San Francisco Chronicle wrote (in 1992), "Today, [the film] works better than ever: Scott's version not only has more dramatic integrity, but its visual aesthetic and futuristic vision are more in sync with today's moviegoers."

Rita Kempley of the Washington Post adds, "Grand enough in scale to carry its many Biblical and mythological references, Blade Runner never feels heavy or pretentious -- only more and more engrossing with each viewing." 

And the film has had a massive influence on the science-fiction film genre: gritty atmospheres and moods, dystopic, bleak, intellectual, steampunk, cyberpunk (sound familiar?), and an immersive, believable experience. Wrote Owen Gleiberman of Entertainment Weekly, "This is perhaps the only science-fiction film [besides 2001] that can be called transcendental."

RETROSPECT: "The Shawshank Redemption" or, A Film for Life

Get busy living, or get busy dying.

I understand you're a man who knows how to get things.

Fear can hold you prisoner. Hope can set you free.

Those are just some of the many taglines or quotes that have stemmed and endured over the last quarter century from a small prison drama based on, of all things, a Stephen King novella.

Voted by IMDb as the number-one rated film of all-time, The Shawshank Redemption spans two decades while following the growing friendship between inmates Red Redding (Morgan Freeman), a convict who has a reputation for "getting things" on the inside, and Andy Dusfrane (Tim Robbins), a mild-mannered banker wrongfully accused of murdering his wife and her lover.

Adapted by first-time director Frank Darabont from King's novella, "Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption," the structure of the film is quite remarkable and timely. (Darabont would later brilliantly adapted another King novel, The Green Mile, starring Tom Hanks, in 1999.) The story chronicles life inside (and the world of) the prison: its ethics, economics, lifestyles, masculinity, personalities, profane nature, routines, and trends, including the theme of fighting the world and what it does to you; elements of rape (a hard scene, and one that comes close), violence ("Prison is no fairy tale world"), conspiracy, and, in particular, the theme of institutionalization (illustrated, for one, in the film's saddest sequence). It also chronicles how Andy makes a difference in the lives of others (whether by making chess pieces out of rocks or building a library), even earning their trust, by bringing in things that aren't "normal" in this world, or perhaps things they've never seen or heard.

Morgan Freeman and Tim Robbins

This film arguably made Freeman a household name (as Pulp Fiction did for Samuel L. Jackson that same year). His narration throughput the film is a great example of how to do narration effectively and necessarily (not to mention great). Plus, the parallel character arcs of his Red and fellow lifer Brooks (the late James Whitmore) represent those who've come to believe the lie that one cannot make it in the world after a life sentence, not to mention a sense of fear in the world.

If the film has any disadvantages, it's in its portrayal of women. In fact, the only women seen on screen are through posters of famous Hollywood bombshells as Rita Hayworth, Marilyn Monroe, and Raquel Welsh. Then there's the brief sexual moment in the film's opening, which is unfortunately the only time we actually see Andy's wife and lover) Some viewers may also take issue with some of the film's complicated use of religion, biblical references and spirituality (Bible and a pick ax, anybody?), especially in the case of the Warden from his first scene ("Put your trust in the Lord. Your a-- belongs to me"). Despite some intriguing Bible passage exchanges between Andy and the Warden, the latter's true character proves hypocritical. (At least some of the references on display do ring true, such as the frame in the Warden's office which reads, "And His judgment that cometh right soon.")

For the briefest of moments, every last man at Shawshank felt free.

In spite of these elements, the film does stand as a metaphor for hope for man. The change that Andy initiates (some would argue or even agree) echoes elements of eternity, and that this life is temporary, yet remembering what we once could do, and who we were/are, and what freedom is. Remember the classic scene of Andy playing an aria record over the loud speakers? Thomas Newman's unforgettable score (which I listened to a lot in college, and which could qualify as a "perfect" score) hits all the right notes and emotions.

Despite generally great reviews and seven Oscar nominations at the time, Shawshank was not a commercial success on its initial release in 1994. But like other similar classics as 1939's The Wizard of Oz and 1946's It's A Wonderful Life, audiences caught up with the film in time, and it's now declared one of the greatest films ever made. It may be the most unforgettable prison drama in film history. There are very few films that have a certain kind of magic (E.T., anyone?), that trigger certain memories and emotions. And though Shawshank is not for everybody, it does otherwise stand as one of those films.